Light My Candle
by HC247
Summary: Pocahontas and John run into a bit of trouble on their wedding night. Fun, fluffy, romance. For Sunrise.


**Happy Holidays! This is a belated Christmas gift for my friend, Sunrise19. She loves RENT and Pocahontas adn this is my attempt to combine the two.**

**Merry Christmas, my friend. I hope you enjoy this :)**

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"Pocahontas?" Where are you, love?"

The woman laughed at the frustration in her husband's voice. "Over here, John. Come towards the living room."

The movement through the darkness was made known by the shifting of several pieces of furniture, accompanied by a few muffled curses and bumps as obstacles connected with flesh. Pocahontas placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her slight chuckles at her poor husband's misfortune. "Didn't you build this cabin yourself?" she asked the darkness.

"Of course." came the clipped reply. "Why?"

The native princess bit the inside of her mouth, knowing this could only cause further irritation, but it was simply too much fun. "No specific reason," she said, innocence dripping from her voice and her lips curling into an impish grin as she added, "Simply the fact that you should know the layout better than I. Shouldn't I be the one fumbling about looking for you instead of the other way around."

A sharp exhale came from somewhere to her left. "The point is not who should be stumbling around in the dark at all." John's voice was practical as he came closer, finally finding her hands with his. "The point is," he said, coming to stand in front of her, "that a man should not have to worry about searching for his wife in the pitch black on their wedding night."

Pocahontas smiled, squeezing the hand that held hers. She could barely see the outline of John's frame in the darkness and asked, "It is not our fault that the night is so black tonight. Perhaps the moon did not see fit to show her face tonight."

She saw the movement of his shoulders as he shrugged. "I can't imagine why. I thought it was quite the celebration."

"My father certainly does know how to celebrate such occasions. The party was grand, but I don't think it has anything to do with the cloudy skies. It has been that way for the past several days."

'Still, a little light would have been nice," John muttered. "I'd like to actually see my wife when I'm alone with her."

"Trust me, my love." Pocahontas said, leaning up to kiss him. "There are many ways to see that do not require the use of one's eyes."

"Beautiful and wise," John noted as he leaned forward to steal another kiss. "How did I get so lucky?" He kissed her again, then said, "If I remember correctly, there should be some candles around here someplace. Don't move a muscle, Pocahontas. I'll be right back."

Stepping away from his wife, the captain crossed the room to the kitchen. Pocahontas heard several doors opening and closing, her husband's sudden "Aha!", and the sound as he struck the match. The room was illuminated in a soft glow as he returned to her, holding the single candle carefully in his hands. "It's the only one we have," he said, setting it on the table. "We'll have to make it last.'

Her smile was soft in the candlelight. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Needing no further encouragement, the captain advanced on her. In three long strides, he had crossed the room and swept his into his arms, his lips meeting hers like a man starved. Her arms came around his neck, holding on tightly as he held her to him. A breeze chose that moment to enter the room, snuffing out the candle and with it, the haze that had overcome the room.

Tearing himself away from his wife, John groaned in frustration. "You have to be kidding me."

Pocahontas chuckled. "Are there any more matches?"

He grinned, holding up another one. "Always be prepared."

She smiled, hugging her arms around her as he relit the candle and came to stand in front of her. "Where were we?" he asked, his voice low.

"Right about here," she answered, winding her arms around his broad shoulders and pressing a kiss to the base of his throat. Not satisfied, he tilted her face to his, his lips seeking his with a new vigor, eager to taste her as his eternally. His kisses grew in urgency as he lifted her into his arms and began to move toward the bedroom at the back of their small cabin.

Fate has a sense of humor, however, and when the captain carried his bride past the candle, the air created by their hurried movements served as the perfect current to once again snuff out the candle. Pocahontas was the first to notice and her head fell against his shoulder, her own shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Look"

He did. "Not again"

"Can't you see, John? We're fighting a losing battle. The candle does simply not want to stay lit."

"Blasted thing," he muttered. Setting Pocahontas back on her feet, the captain checked his pockets. "And that was my last match. " Turning back to his wife, he apologized. "I'm sorry, love."

She simply shook her head. "It's nothing that can be helped." Coming to him, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him softly. "Well just have to create our own glow."

And, much to their delight, they were able to do exactly that, kindling a small flame to a roaring fire that would put any candle to shame.


End file.
